


Space Cowboy

by ruric



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: comment_fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-11
Updated: 2009-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Movie nights are something of an institution on Atlantis but they tend to happen irregularly because as Rodney put it “attacks by evil overlords really fuck up the scheduling”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space Cowboy

When John comes into the gym Ronon has one marine in a headlock and another held a bay by a staff swinging so fast that the guy’s eyes are almost crossing trying to track the movement and find a weak spot to get through.

Ronon can feel the feral grin on his face, his lips drawing back from his teeth and his blood? Well it’s singing through his veins – he’s no good at sitting around waiting for things to happen but put him somewhere where there’s action and he comes alive.

He alters the downward arc of the staff, just enough to clip Davidson on the arm - he might just be grinning a little wider at the yelp of surprise – and shoots John a glance over the guy’s shoulder.

“You wanted something?”

“Yeah - Thompson, Davidson - good to see the training coming along so well.” 

Ronon laughs and Davidson, thinking he’s got an opening steps forward. It’s only a matter of turning his shoulder to the right, sliding his foot behind Davison’s ankle and exerting a little pressure just _there_ to put the marine flat on his back on the mat.

Sheppard arches an eye brow at him. 

“Just wanted to remind you all, it’s movie night tonight, see you all later.”

Movie nights are something of an institution on Atlantis but they tend to happen irregularly because as Rodney put it “attacks by evil overlords really fuck up the scheduling”. Elizabeth calls it team bonding, John calls it R&R and for Ronon and Teyla it’s just something different.

He drops Thompson to the mats as John leaves, then helps the winded marines to their feet and sends them to get cleaned up before going to his rooms to change. 

His people might not have had TV or movies but they had a culture rich in storytelling and he's still not convinced what the Lantean’s have to offer is anywhere near as good as Satedan theater. Though he appreciates the artistry involved in how they tell stories he misses the immediacy of seeing something happen live before his eyes.

John and Rodney seem to be having some kind of contest to work out which kind of movies he’ll like – truth be told he’s heard that Lorne holds the book from session to session. 

They’ve discovered that Rodney’s impressive collection of sci-fi went down well – though Ronon finds it little too close to the day job to completely lose himself in the story. No-one was surprised that he loved the Die Hard movies but the night they showed some flickering old black and white movies you could’ve heard a pin drop at the silent astonishment that surrounded his bellowing laughter at the little man with the funny round hat and cane. After that movie nights have become more of an adventure – he’s never quite sure what they’re going to show him next.

The room they’ve set aside is almost full by the time he arrives and he finds his usual space, between Sheppard and Teyla, slides down on the couch so the people behind can see. The lights dim and Ronon snatches a fistful of popcorn from the bowl John’s holding on his lap.

The screen flickers to life, reds and blacks and the music swells around them. Strings with a single voice whistling over the top, deepening into a number of voices raised in a wordless chant which reminds him of home and Ronon feels a prickle of anticipation ripple down his spine. By the time the pictures change to a lone man riding across an arid landscape Ronon’s only too ready to lose himself in the story.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Walking back to their quarters afterwards Ronon’s conscious of Sheppard shooting him glances and almost bouncing on his toes. 

Part of the fun of movie nights is concealing his response and watching their reactions – it’s kinda cruel but he enjoys teasing Sheppard, seeing how long he can wait before asking. And right on cue there's the whisper of Sheppard’s breath in a soft sigh.

“Okay – I’m asking.”

It’s an unspoken rule they have that once Sheppard cracks Ronon answers.

“This was a ...” and Ronon pauses because they’ve explained the idea of different types of film him before and it would be rude not to remember “...a western?”

“Cowboy film, yeah, so whaddya think?”

“It’s cool. Yeah. I liked it.”

Sheppard punches the air, grins and bumps shoulders with him.

“Figured you would – that you’d see the similarity. Taciturn, good with guns, y’know?”

He stops and turns to face Sheppard, crossing his arms, does his best to loom the head taller that he is and deadpans.

“You think I’m like that guy?”

But Sheppard’s known him long enough not to fall for it any more.

“Yeah – I figure you’re kind of a space cowboy....”

The look he sends Ronon, the slow look that travels from his eyes, all the way down to the tips of Ronon’s boots and back up, holds as much promise as it does frank appraisal.

“You’re a lot prettier though.”

Sheppard ducks and runs before Ronon’s even had time to uncross his arms. 

A few seconds head start and Ronon could still take him but it’s more fun to hold back a little, cause he knows where Sheppard’s going, where he’s going to be waiting and Ronon’s already planning the revenge he’s gonna take for that last comment before he gives Sheppard what they both want.


End file.
